


Letters Left to Time

by adellama



Category: Chrono Trigger
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 10:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adellama/pseuds/adellama
Summary: A collection of letters left to fade with time





	Letters Left to Time

My Queen,

It is with a heavy soul that I write to inform you of the death of Cyrus, Captain of the Royal Guard.

To call the demise of Cyrus tragic is an understatement. For life to be lost at such a young age is utterly heartbreaking.

I've reflected long and hard on the days that we had spent together, on all events that led up to this. I do not wish to share the burden or upset you in your time of mourning, yet I feel it is only appropriate that I write to you.

In these times of war, not much can give us hope; so hearing Cyrus tell me of a sword so powerful it could defeat even the most powerful of enemies sparked a naive hope within the both of us. Of all the adventures we had been on together, this one felt the most exciting. I cannot tell you how moved I was to hear that I was the first he had turned to to assist him on this dangerous mission. 

I will not lie, I did have my doubts about the reality of the sword. However I also cannot deny that the most excitement did not come purely from the great importance behind this mission, but from assisting a man whom I deeply respect.

As I'm sure you know my queen, I could complete the rest of this parchment with genuine praise for a man whom I loved and respected.

Alas, 'tis not the reason I have written you today.

I find no comfort in sharing details of his last moments, I truly do not know if it is a service or injustice to describe the events of that day. Perhaps I shall tell you one day, should you ask. But for now I shall tell you only if what I think is important for you to know.

As per your request, we set out on the first leg of our journey. Cyrus was adamant that we slay the Frog King, retrieving the Heroes Badge from its clutches. As expected, the swordsmanship he displayed came from the skill and determination he has always held. 'Twas easy to put the frog King in his grave, an end to the grievances of local townsmen. With our confidence in high esteem, we headed towards the Denaroro Mountains.

Scaling the mountain was much more dangerous than it had been in my youth. Though it is not outlandish to assume that Cyrus could have bested each and every mystic that crossed our paths, we decided to put our strength towards the retrieval of the Masamune. 

Sneaking around the mountains, we were careful to avoid the sight of any mystic. 'Tis no secret that I cower at the thought of harming another in battle, so despite the oddity of our scaling, it was interesting to complete the mission of this nature with not a single mystic slain.

I can tell you with confidence that Cyrus was as silent as the forest on the coldest of winter nights as we climbed the mountain together; I doubt any mystic we had passed was even aware of our presence.

When we had reached the cave the prophesized Masamune was said to lay, I stood frozen with cold blood running through my veins at the sight of none other than the Fiendlord himself.

Many a rumour had recounted his appearance, but I doubt there is a tale that can express the pure fear one feels deep in his bones at the sight of this man looming over you ominously. 

I could tell right away that this would not end well. 

I wish I could say the events of what had happened sat vaguely in my mind, but again, I shall not lie to you, my fair Queen.

Each and every detail haunts me to this day, never has clarity proven itself to be a curse until now.

I can still hear his scream as he went up in flames, the dull sound of his armour clinking as he fell... 

Just as I reached out to him, the flames disappeared as quickly as they came. It felt like every organ in my body sunk to the pit of my stomach as I looked into the hollowed armour. 

If one thought the mere appearance of our enemy to be frightening, the sound of his voice is one to make night terrors feel tame. 

The mere audacity of this man, to let an empty chuckle sit in his throat as he looked right into my eyes and insulted the now deceased Cyrus... I will spare you the words that come to mind, as you can imagine it is far too rude for your eyes to read.

He taunted the thought of vengeance, his words as sharp as the scythe he carried by his side. If one could physically hurt from the words of another, I'd have bled out and died right there next to Cyrus. 

I stood up, unsure of what exactly I should do. I was a fool to insist against bringing my sword, although I have sworn many times against hurting another, the dreaded Magus was exempt from that moral promise. I do not think I was entirely aware of my decision to reach towards Cyrus' charred blade, a fool in a panic futilely attempting to slay the biggest enemy to our country, but I was stopped before I could even touch the hilt. 

I was also struck by magic atop that mountain. The force of it caused me to spin, my own dizziness sending me down the many waterfalls of the mountain.  
I do not remember falling, but I do remember waking up to see my own reflection did not look like me. 

Within the pool of water where I laid, the Hero's Medal we had retrieved shone as the sun lowered. I held the medal in my hands... Hands no longer my own...

Do not send any soldiers to the mountain to follow the same fate, the prophesized Masamune was broken. It's blade lay sadly in stone as the hilt was tossed aside carelessly. 

I carry both the hilt of this blade and the remains of your Knight Commander in my possession.

May you knight the next Captain of the Royal Guard knowing that Cyrus fought proudly for you and this country until the bitter end, and that his teachings have been passed onto each of the knights in your guard.  
The next Captain cannot replace him, but know that he would be proud in your choice. 

 

It is with sincere apologies that I cannot deliver this news in person. My appearance is unfit and I do not wish to shock you after such news that is the demise of Cyrus. 

May you mourn the memory of him with a fond reminiscence, and the news of his passing rest not as a burden to your soul, but as a blessing to what he was.

Most sincerely, 

Glenn


End file.
